


Almost There

by Tallihensia



Series: Bonds of Blood and Commandos [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Japanese Internment, Talkies, Unlikely Bonds, families, how does one tag this sort of thing, reconnecting, time goes by
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 00:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: A normal day at school for Peter and Principal Morita turns into a less normal one when the Winter Soldier shows up.  He's not there for Peter and avenging, though – he wants to talk to Principal Morita about his grandfather, Jim Morita.  Time has passed and there's a not lot left.  Bucky may not be ready yet, but almost...





	Almost There

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel-ish to Unlikely Bonds because I wanted Bucky talking with Jim Morita's grandson in present-day. It got a little out of control...
> 
> FYI, despite it starting off with Peter's pov, this sadly isn't a Peter story. It's a Morita & Bucky story primarily.
> 
> No Civil War, not CW complaint. However, post Spiderman Homecoming, which was post-CW, but... we'll just pretend that S-HC ignored CW too. Post-Winter Soldier Bucky rehabilitation and joining the Avengers team. Leaving it slightly ambiguous to how long after WS it is (or, for that matter, how long after Cap was dug out of the ice – not withstanding movie dates, Marvel isn't really very good at rational timelines).

## Almost There

Peter and Ned left their chemistry class in a companionable silence. Having Ned in the same class this semester made making the web fluid a breeze. The two of them together could hide the ingredients better and distract the teacher. The other students didn't care – other than MJ, but she never asked nor gave them away. 

As they got close to the main hallway, Peter heard a girl say in a shocked voice, "I think he has a gun." She didn't sound certain, the words were barely spoken loud enough for him to hear, and his spider sense wasn't alerting, but still, Peter went to point. He straightened up and glanced around until he could pick out the direction her voice had come from. Then he looked for anything out of place.

There. Standing against the wall near the display cases. A guy, probably not a student. He was wearing a baseball cap and a long-sleeved hoodie and jeans, but he looked older, and he held himself – that wasn't an attack pose, that was defense. He was flattened up against the wall, eyes wide as the students streamed by, his right hand tucked a little inside the volume of clothes, his left arm posed defensively. There was a gleam of metal, but that wasn't a gun – and Peter suddenly felt the weirdness of his two lives clicking together again as they sometimes did. His High School life, his Superhero life, his sometimes occasional Avengers life, the paths that never crossed, only sometimes they did. And that was three lives. Though he supposed the third was part of the second, though different too. 

Then the civilian Winter Soldier moved a little and Peter saw that he did have a gun. It was a little one – his right hand almost engulfed it, and he wasn't aiming it anywhere... but he did have it, and there were more students starting to notice and become alarmed.

"Bucky!" Peter dropped his books and moved between him and the crowd. Probably a little too fast, but he didn't think anybody would notice. Hopefully. He put his back to the crowd and cleared a bit of space around the ex-soldier and hoped that nobody would notice him not bouncing off them like a weakling should. 

Blue eyes snapped to him, the stare intent and clear and almost as deadly as a gun. Then Bucky relaxed, his gaze going to the scene around them, evaluating and wary, but no longer defensive. He straightened up, the gun disappearing somewhere before his right hand emerged again without holding anything. He kept the left a little hidden still, but now it was probably simply to conceal the metal hand. He wasn't wearing gloves for some reason. He usually wore gloves if he went out in public.

"Hey, Kid," Bucky's voice was low and a little rough. "Thanks."

Peter huffed a little. He hated, hated, hated being called 'kid', even if it was a cool thing to be getting thanked by the Winter Soldier. "Things okay?" He was not about to ask if _Bucky_ was okay. Nohow, noway. He still had a little bit of sense of self-preservation, thank you.

Bucky's mouth twitched up a bit. "It was clear, quiet. Was reading the case... then the bell." He waved his hand slightly to indicate the crowds flowing around them. Though now there was an audience gathering around them too. "Startled me."

"Oh God, that bell," Peter agreed whole-heartedly. "I don't know why they have it so loud. I'm sure it violates some sort of hearing protection act. And that's _before_ super-hearing!" 

The mouth twitched some more, almost into a grin. "Enhanced hearing. Not super. Think Tony has a chart for it. With more adjectives."

And that abruptly made Peter think of why Bucky might be there. "Oh hey! Does Mr. Stark need me? I mean... you're here... Should I...?" Peter was really aware of all the students around them, but he couldn't figure anything else out. They all knew about the Stark internship, at least.

Bucky shook his head slightly, some of his hair falling out from under the baseball cap. "You really think Tony would send _me_?" 

Send one of the world's deadliest assassins to pick up a Spiderman? Well, maybe Black Widow, she never seemed to mind things like that and could float under cover. But the Winter Soldier? Yeah, no. Peter was at the same time both relieved and disappointed. He loved going on adventures with the Avengers, even if they were quite dangerous and Mr. Stark kept trying to keep him out of it at the same time as wanting him in it. Mr. Stark was often confusing. But it was all still cool. Except this time it wasn't, apparently.

Peter opened his mouth, then closed it again, aware of all the students around them. He took a step forward and then wished he hadn't as the students also took that step forward, less obviously, but they still closed in more. Bucky's body went from relaxed to tense again, though he stayed where he was and his eyes were clear. 

"I didn't know this was your school," Bucky remarked with apparent ease, only his body showing how he wasn't. "Good school. Was actually here to see your Principal." 

His Principal? Peter blinked a couple of times, as he unobtrusively tried to clear space again, without much luck this time. 

Another voice flowed into the conversation. "And he'd very much like to see you, Sergeant Barnes."

\---

Gabe Morita was in his office, looking over reports, when his radio clicked on. The Hall Monitor reported with worry in her voice, "Gabe – it's Sacha. The students say there's a man with a gun in the hall."

Clicking a button on his desk brought up screens with most of the cameras through the school. He quickly picked out the point of trouble and focused on it while activating the radio with his other hand. "On it." He grabbed his own gun and checked it quickly, pressing his thumb on the handle so it could read his print and unlock the safety. He may not be military or police or anything remotely like that, but when one grew up family and extended family of the Howling Commandos, there wasn't a single child who didn't get training – even his cousin Jaqueline, and she weighed 90 pounds wet and couldn't see over the car dash without help. But heaven help anybody who took that as weakness. Not in their family.

On the screen, Peter was clearing a space around somebody, in his usual deferring manner. He didn't look like there was danger – his posture was more like he was protecting the person. Then the man's head lifted as he looked directly at Peter.

Gabe's breath left in a rush.

Bucky. It was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, back from the wars at last. The family had been waiting for so long...

He hesitated for a moment over the gun, then finally put it in his coat pocket. Unlikely that it would be needed, but no point not being cautious and the print lock meant nobody else could use it. Turning off the monitors, Gabe went into the hall, walking quickly but without any alarm in his motion. He reassured students with a confident look and the few who asked he acknowledged without slowing down.

He got there in time to hear a remark about Stark, and then there was a ripple of movement through the students and a brief surge that had the Sergeant wary again. Better than before, at least. Peter tried to clear the area around them but didn't succeed. The students were now more interested in Bucky and without a threat, they could be incredibly persistent. Teenagers.

Gabe sighed and started winding his way through without drawing too much attention to himself. He didn't want Bucky to see him until he was close enough to be there. His grandfathers had taught him that, as well.

"Good school," Bucky said, his voice low and directed to Peter, but not private and Gabe was close enough to hear. "Was actually here to see your Principal."

He wasn't at optimal range, but there wasn't going to be a better opening than that, Gabe amusedly noted. He quickly cleared the last couple of feet, not bothering with stealth anymore. "And he'd very much like to see you, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky looked up at the words, and as he saw Gabe, Bucky paled, swaying very slightly. 

Gabe stepped forward, but Peter was there before him, tucking himself up against Bucky's side. 

"Has anybody ever told you how much you look like your grandfather?" Bucky laughed weakly, nudging Peter until his left arm was freed, without dislodging Peter from his side.

Ah, right. Gabe had forgotten about that. Poor Bucky. Gabe smiled and shook his head, not in denial but rather in exasperation. "All the time," he replied fervently. "All my grandfathers – by blood and commando – all the darn time. Every single time. You'd think they'd get used to it, but no, every time we have another reunion, they have to remark on it all over again."

Bucky blinked rapidly, tilting his head to one side. Then he smiled, a little tiny smile that spoke of both regret and joy. "I can understand that. Absolutely you're the spitting image of Jim. Though you need a cigar to complete the image. And a swagger when you walk."

Gabe grinned. "Grandmother made Granddad give up the cigars. Never seen anybody look so utterly inconsolable as he was that day. Next time he was over, Uncle Dum-Dum offered Granddad one and Grandmother came swooping in... You should have seen Uncle Dum-Dum run."

The smile got a little bit larger, with a bit more joy this time, though still with the dose of pain.

"Oh my god, ohmygod, omgod..." Peter bounced in step, forcing Bucky to step away from him. His attention was focused on Gabe. "You're Jim Morita's grandson!?!" He managed to make the exclamation both a question and declaration at the same time. "The Howling Commando? You're _that_ Jim Morita's grandson?"

Gabe watched the enthusiasm and amazement spread through the students still around them and he resisted the urge to raise his hand to his face. He didn't make any secret of it but they rarely thought to look, or care, until moments like these. 

Years ago, the Howling Commandos were just a paragraph in the history books to these kids. Long before their time, fighting a war that had been superseded by so many others. Then Captain America had been dug out of the ice, and promptly helped save the world from an interstellar invasion. Everything from the 40's had also been revived, newly trendy again. The remaining Commandos had gone underground to avoid the sudden rash of publicity, laughing at their abrupt fame again.

Of course, when Cap was dug up, most of his students would also have been young still, only early grade-school. History the least of their concerns at that age. Even with all the new Captain America adventures along with the other Avengers, teenagers lived in their own worlds. Even as the world continued to change.

Bucky raised his own eyebrow as he watched the teenagers as they switched their attention from him to Gabe and then back again. He shook his head and gave another smile, apparently directed at the situation instead of a person. 

It seemed that Aunt Stake had been right about her brother.

Glancing at his watch, Gabe brought his hands up in a clap, getting the students' attention. "All right, everybody. This is still a school day. Classes will be starting---" With exquisite timing, the bell rang. Bucky winced, his hand half-raising towards his ear. Next to him, Peter much more subtly also winced. Gabe hummed under his breath. Maybe he would have a word with the techs about lowering the volume. Or he'd do it himself after school. 

When the bell was done, Gabe resumed. "Classes are starting now. Due to the disruption, everybody has an extra five minutes to get to your classes without being tardy. Off with you, now." He clapped his hands again, and the crowd dispersed. Gabe pulled out his radio to give a quick instruction to the teachers in their classes about the delay.

With a sigh, Peter took a reluctant step away from Bucky. His expression was as hang-dog as Gabe had ever seen it, and yet he'd seen it before – a teenager forced to go to class when there were interesting things happening. 

Gabe carefully kept his own expression blank, not giving in to his amusement. Peter hadn't ended up in detention again since the last Homecoming... but some temptations just weren't going to go away, it seemed.

Bucky reached out with his metal hand and tousled Peter's hair. His coat-sleeve rode up, showing metal plating and joints extending up the arm. 

"Bucky..." Peter whined, but didn't show any signs of being disturbed to have a mechanical hand capable of crushing cement blocks curving around his head. 

"Thanks, Peter." Bucky smiled down at him, then gave a slight shove to move him on his way.

Standing awkwardly exposed by the departing crowd, Ned held out Peter's books and glanced longingly towards Bucky. He didn't say anything, though, as Peter bounced to his side.

"Peter?" Bucky's question halted the teenager in his tracks, and Peter glanced back, hopefully. Bucky tilted his head slightly to one side. 

There was a pause for a bit, then an, "oh!" from Peter. "Um, Bucky, this is my friend, Ned. Ned, this is Bucky." 

Ned brightened up like somebody had just set a Millennium prize in front of him. He was clearly overjoyed and overwhelmed. Gabe was fairly sure the babbling would set in soon enough.

"Glad to meet you, Ned," Bucky stepped forward and reached his right hand out. As Ned took it, still stunned, Bucky added, "Man in the Chair." 

"Oh my God, oh wow, oh wow..." Ned turned to Peter. "You told them? I mean, you... really? Oh man. This is so awesome. I'm shaking hands with the Winter Soldier!" 

Gabe winced a little for Bucky's sake, but the Commando was un-phased at the labeling, or at least not outwardly showing anything adverse about it. 

Instead, Bucky gravely returned the attention. "I hear Tony is thinking of opening another slot or two in the internship program."

"Really???" Ned breathed, sheer delight and wonder on his face.

There was a grumble from some of the students near, but not even Flash dared to say anything. Not with the Principal and the Winter Soldier standing there. Gabe gave his own slight internal sigh. Last year's "Stark Internship" had almost derailed Peter completely. It was a miracle Peter was back and as settled as he was now.

"Yes, but..." Bucky gave a stern look to Peter. "No talk of dropping out of school. Life happens, but school is important." 

Peter cringed under the look. The boy that wouldn't give a second thought to a metal hand on his head, brought down by a look and the thought of school. Gabe suppressed his smile. Peter was a good kid, right enough.

Even as Ned stammered out denials and thanks and general fanboyishness, Bucky turned his attention to scanning the area. He found what he sought and straightened up, throwing out a casual parade salute that was still more formal than most people saw today. Gabe saw there a glimpse of the old Sergeant Barnes. Looking that direction, he saw Michelle in the distance, watching them and as flustered as he'd ever seen her. Peter and Ned also glanced over to see her, then they traded their own silent communication with each other.

"Classes are still starting," Gabe intervened as soon as he was sure Bucky wasn't going to pick anybody else out. Though by the way he was eyeing Flash, Bucky wanted to... and not in a nice way. "Everybody off, now."

Reluctantly, the last of them scattered, including the other teachers and monitors who had been watching. Peter and Ned glued to each other's sides until they had to split for their classes.

Alone in the halls, it was quiet and still. Nothing like the noisy confusion it had been just a few minutes ago.

Bucky sighed and noticeably relaxed. "I've been in combat less stressful than that."

Gabe laughed. "It's why teachers get paid the high salaries." Lowest salaries of anybody but the janitors, and they would be in trouble without janitors too.

"Jim didn't smoke cigars often... that was more Dum Dum's thing." Without the kids around, Bucky dropped a lot of the affability, though he was still regarding Gabe with that expression of seeing his grandfather and trying to reconcile it.

"By the end of the war, it was all their thing," Gabe replied quietly. "Dum Dum's fault, most assuredly, which the wives gave him what all for."

Bucky looked away, acknowledging the passing of time that he hadn't been around for. He raised his right hand up to his face, using his knuckle to wipe away nothing on his left upper lip. "Sorry. That was..."

Gabe shrugged. "You know what you knew. And as a teacher, we give tests all the time. Sometimes, the students come up with something true but not what we'd expected."

There was a pause while Bucky studied him quietly. 

"My office?" Gabe broke the silence. The hall was not the place for this. Neither was the school, really, but Gabe could understand why it was safer than the family house. Only one person to confront, and options for getting away if it wasn't working out. The family house... had more of them. And it was harder to run away from the old and the young.

With a nod, the ex-soldier acquiesced, and Gabe led the way through the halls. Having the deadly killer behind him didn't bother him – nearly all his family was capable, and danger alone wasn't the scary part. You had to be ready when trouble came, but not rile it up when it was only knocking at the door.

"Sorry about the fuss out there," Bucky finally spoke. "Wasn't planning on getting trapped, but got caught up in reading the school history in the cases. This seems like a good school." 

Gabe smiled. "I like to think it is. And a little fuss is good for the students sometimes. Might help Peter for the rest of them to know the Stark Internship isn't just something he made up." Stark's assistant had been by a few times to pick up Peter, and the school had given him class days off on occasion, but that was something the deniers could easily put aside. Stark himself had even come by once, going through the science fair... and they still didn't completely believe. Peter was too good at fading into the background. The Winter Soldier was a little harder to ignore.

The weight of Bucky's frown may not have been seen, but it was in his voice. "Peter said the bullying was getting better."

"Compared to last year? It is. But this is high school, and they're teenagers." Gabe sighed. "We try, but we can never eliminate it altogether. If we catch them, they get punished... but they are careful not to be caught by us – the teachers. If the other students let it go on, it continues." That was the biggest problem, in Gabe's mind – that the other students let it happen. Even if they didn't join it, they very rarely defended. It was one of the things that Gabe had been the most disappointed in Liz in last year – she'd been a fine leader in just about everything... except she never once spoke out against the bullying. Not once, even when she had let Peter take her to the dance. They would have listened to her, but she didn't even try, or even seem to notice sometimes. Nobody else of the student hierarchy did either, which made Gabe long to shake them all sometimes. That general acceptance of bullying made Peter stand out all the more because he _did_ speak out, and step between. Not always, not when he was trying to hard to fit in, but more than the rest of them, and always when it was serious – though sometimes it was by deflecting them onto him instead. Teachers couldn't become preachers, though, or most of what they were trying to teach became lost. They weren't peers, they were only guides – and at this age, peers sadly often had the most weight.

"Peter reminds me of Steve," Bucky said abruptly. Gabe wasn't sure what it had to do with the previous topic.

"Steve...?"

Bucky half-laughed. "Rogers. Captain America. Only I was thinking of before the war. Before he got tall and big."

For all of Gabe's growing up with the Howling Commandos as his grandfathers and grand-uncles, the casual reference to Steve Rogers still made him blink. But then, Captain America had been dead for most of his life. And none of the Commandos had known him before the war. "Ah," he said instead, for lack of anything else to say. "This is my office." 

The door had 'Principal' on it with large permanent letters, and in a smaller, slip in paper slot beside the door, his name. He'd never bothered to have a permanent one made, and sometimes the bolder students could get amusing with it. Currently, it was really his name, though, so he didn't have to explain that part. Bucky still stopped to read it.

"Gabe?" Bucky studied the name tag. "Seriously? Your name is Gabe? That wasn't on the website. G. Morita... there's a lot of G names. But Gabe?"

Gabe couldn't help the laughter as he unlocked the door. "My entire _generation_ of blood and commandos are all named after the Howling Commandos. Every single one of us. Even the girls. We collectively want to strangle whosoever parent had that idea first. None of us have our actual grandparent's name, but otherwise...."

Bucky started laughing too, quietly. "That must be a lot of 'James'."

"Like you wouldn't believe!" Gabe said fervently. "With three of you, that was the default name when a set of parents couldn't decide. At least it has a lot of variations. Though for you and Monty, at least, the middle names got into the act for names as well."

As Gabe opened the door, Bucky's eyes went straight to the picture of Jim up on top of the shelf. His breath went out abruptly, and then he drew it back in again. Even as he replied to Gabe, Bucky's steps strode in a direct line to the picture, and the case of metals next to it.

"I pity the kid who got 'Buchanan' as a first name. But how did girls get the names?" Bucky didn't move once he got to the picture and metals, his whole body still. It was a sniper's stillness, a soldier's. When movement would give them away. Even as he calmly discussed names.

Gabe went to his desk, put the gun away, and brought up the monitors again. "Gabriella, Jaime, Jaqueline... they managed. Though some got more creative than others." He replayed the part where Peter had dashed forward to get between Bucky and the crowd. Definitely too fast. With a series of commands, he set about cleaning that section, degrading the image quality and stretching it. That was a lot easier to hide than actual deletions – blank spots drew attention.

Bucky turned from the picture and the metals, watching what Gabe was doing. Then he picked up the picture frame and brought it with him to the other side of the desk, setting it up on the desk to face him as he sat down. "You do that a lot?"

"All the time," Gabe replied fervently. "All the darn time. If nobody is looking at them in person, kids seem to think they're invisible." He shook his head. "But this is high school, not Big Brother. For them to be who they are, who they want to be... we let them be. We only intervene if it's dangerous."

"The TV show?" Bucky sounded confused.

After his own confusion, Gabe shook his head. "The book. 1984, by George Orwell. It was supposed to be a scary future when it was published in 1949. It's still a scary future even with the past date." He turned the monitors off and let them fade out.

"I was in Dresden in 1949," Bucky said, resting his metal hand on the desk and looking down at it. "Or at least I think I was. Maybe Lviv by then. Not sure of the actual location." He paused. "Or the year."

POW and worse. Gabe tried not to show pity or false understanding. Nobody in the family appreciated either one. He put it off to one side to attend to the present. "Don't tell Peter. Let him learn on his own pace."

Bucky blinked. "You almost sounded like Jim there. But still, not quite." He paused. "I won't."

"I'm not my grandfather," Gabe said dryly. "Only his grandson."

Bucky touched the picture frame, staring at the photo. "Jim had a lot of anger in him. Fighting for a country that locked his family up for no reason. Fighting while they still were in the camps. We were fighting against evil... but that just wasn’t right either." 

It was Gabe's turn to blink. That had gone serious quickly. He turned off the monitors. "Grandfather said that having the support of you and the others helped him through it. The letters... None of you brushed it off, and that was important."

"I'd promised him that when this was over, when we got the last base and got a leave, I promised him I'd go home with him. Try to get his home back. See if any of that hero status we'd been hearing about would do any good with the folks who didn't know." Bucky shook his head. "I never made it."

Gabe clamped his lips down on the automatic response that being dead was a perfectly valid reason for not keeping promises. That's what they all had thought had happened to Bucky. For years and years, his entire life, Gabe had heard the mourning as his grandfather and the others talked about their lost companion. If they'd known what had really happened... they would have never left the war. 

Instead, he toned it down and kept it personal. "It meant a lot to Grandfather, that you'd do that for him, for all of them." He smiled. "The letters our families traded... Aunt Stake---"

Bucky's eyebrows climbed to the top of his head and he interrupted. "Aunt Stake??" His voice was pure incredulous disbelief.

Gabe froze for a moment. He'd thought... he'd really thought from all the stories that Grandfather had told that Bucky was someone okay with the mixing. But maybe that was just for the war, and friendship. Too many people were like that. 

"They weren't going to abandon your family just because you were dead." He heard his voice going chilly and didn't bother to modulate it. "You thought they would all go their separate ways? They were the Commandos, blood and family – and that included your mom and sisters too. The letters you all sent, the letters they sent, they ---"

Bucky held up his hand, "Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Ace. Don't snap your cap at me."

That... was something nobody had called him since his grandfather had died. And he'd never heard the second half before from any of the grands. It stopped his tirade mid-word.

"There's a lot of Jim in you after all, Ga... okay, I can't call you Gabe either. It's just too weird." Bucky shook his head. "Mom and I always thought Stacy would give up that silly nickname when she got settled. To hear you still using it... 'Aunt Stake'... That's what I was so startled at. Guess I owe Beck a dollar – whatever that would be now."

Gabe had honestly forgotten that her name was actually Stacy. Nobody ever called her that, not even her sister or husband. He cleared his throat. "Uncle Gabe calls me Gabby." Little Gabby, actually, but he wasn't going to admit that. The Commandos all had their own issues with the plethora of kids named after them – Dum Dum in particular thought it was a really stupid idea. All the second cousins liked their grandfathers a lot, lot better than their parents. What did they think was going to happen when there were over 40 kids and only five names? And Commando family reunions every year?

Bucky's mouth twitched. "I'm not sure if that's better."

"I'm not either," Gabe sighed. 

"Gabe." Bucky tried it out, with that smile still on his face. "That is really kind of great. Kind of nuts. But great too. Okay, I like it. I'll try it. Jim's face, Gabe's name... they live on still."

This was completely the wrong time to point out that Uncle Gabe was still alive. Gabe held his tongue.

There was a short silence as Bucky very obviously was looking to say something but not finding the words yet. Gabe let him be without injecting his own. 

"I didn't think that," Bucky finally said in a small voice, low and rough. "But I didn't know, either. I don't know. I... my memories are still shot. Riddled with holes, frayed around the edges, darned and rough from the patching. It was... I do remember being worried. I had years to be worried, about everybody, before they... before I..."

"Sorry." Gabe winced. "I didn't mean to bring that up." Aunt Stake would be furious at him.

"It hit some sore spot, I guess." Bucky hadn't had an accent out talking to Peter, but his voice was dropping into one the longer he talked to Gabe. The smiles were easier too. "Just like a sniper. Instinct for the kill." Okay, that last was a little bitter, but still in the Brooklyn accent.

Bucky got up. Picking up the picture from the desk and carrying it with him, he walked to the window and looked outside. "I used to hate myself when I couldn't remember something. Worse when Steve would bring up sh--- stuff we used to do, memories we should share, but I didn't... or remembered something different."

Gabe carefully didn't move. He hadn't known what to expect from meeting this icon out of his grandfather's past, but he was well acquainted with the Commandos in general, and all of the next generation that had followed them into war and danger. Not all of them had come back, and not all had come back intact. Bucky had been a prisoner of war and worse. And was somehow, miraculously, back with them. Maybe not intact completely, but back. And in Gabe's office. He had come to them. Stake had told them all to not pester... to wait until Bucky came to them. They had wanted to reach out, but she'd limited them to just some letters and offers of more. Dealing with post-war Commandos, and family of Commandos, they listened, and waited. It seemed to have worked. Stake was right.

Without turning around, Bucky laughed. This time it didn't sound bitter – it sounded amused, happy, even. And that wasn't what Gabe had been expecting at all.

"All our moaning about memories and the pain of them incomplete... that lasted up until Sam wandered in one day to catch Steve pulling a 'oh hey, what about' moment that I didn't know. He told us we were a pair of ripe idiots, called his sister, and got us invited over for dinner at her place that night."

His whole life had been lived with historical figures and various heroes, yet it still took Gabe a moment to connect the dots to Sam Wilson, the Falcon. Captain America was part and parcel of the whole Commando world and he didn't blink with Bucky talking casually about him, even if he was still getting used to the 'Steve' part. Somehow, though, the idea of the Falcon casually so part of their lives brought the whole thing out another level. Super heroes, and real people.

Bucky put his metal hand up to the window, still holding the picture frame with his other. "Sam's nephews and niece are the cutest little tykes you've ever do see. Cute as buttons and with that same vibrant love of _everything_ that Sam has, distilled down to pint size. I'm still amazed they're not afraid of me."

There was a quiet moment for that. Gabe cleared his throat. "You seem to be good with children." Bucky had done well with the teenagers in the hallway, momentary panic put aside.

Turning back, Bucky held up his metal arm and curled the hand into a fist. He held it a moment, then relaxed. He put Jim's photo on the desk. "It's the kids that are good. Not me." This time, his smile was both sad and sweet. "But I do enjoy them. Sam's family... it's amazing his sister lets us in. But that's his family. Wasn't the point for the night, though."

Gabe raised his eyebrows, inviting more of the tale.

Bucky laughed again, shaking his head. "That guy... he made sure the whole dinner talk was from the kids. Asked them about their days, their friends, things they'd done together... a field trip they'd been on the other weekend. And the whole darn conversation was: "no, that's not right! it was like this!" and "don't you remember? we had practice right after!" and "Marty said... uh, no, he said..." and none of them cared that they didn't all remember it the same, or didn't remember the same things. Kayla, the littlest, she would grump when the older two supported their versions over hers, but it was all part of everything. Then on to the next."

Gabe joined in the laughter. "My kids do the same. Only they're just in pre-school so it really gets confusing sometimes. What they think they've done versus what we know they've done – isn't always the same."

"You've got kids." Bucky looked at him, his expression resembling that of the grands. The look of somebody who can't believe somebody so young also has young ones. It was a weird look to get from somebody who was physically probably younger than himself. 

"Yeah." Gabe reached in his desk drawer and brought out the other picture frame he kept there. He handed it to Bucky. "My wife, Yuko, and our two children, Kei and Billy."

Leaving the window, Bucky took the photo and studied it for a long moment, smiling. "In your desk drawer?"

"The high schoolers," Gabe shrugged. "Cute families aren't conducive to good disciplinary talks as a Principal. Grandfather Jim is."

"Yeah, he would be," Bucky affirmed. "Though he was always a soft sop for the kids too, especially the starving ones. We all were... but he always made sure they got something, even if it was showing them how to strain the water or strip the grass to get to the white edible stem at the bottom."

Grandfather had said Bucky taught the kids how to use levers instead of strength, to look for the ways around things instead of straight through. The Commandos had only had a couple of years together before they'd lost Bucky, but the bonds they'd formed were everlasting. Gabe gave that memory back to Bucky, offering it in place of his Grandfather, as Jim would have wanted him to.

There was another long moment, then Bucky turned away again, going to the window and the promise of escape when he needed it. "Thanks," he said softly. "I... And there's that memory thing again. I remembered Jim... but not me. Not until you mentioned it. It was a missing piece. 

"I'm not so afraid of them now – the missing memories, the broken ones. Sam played with us some more, after the kids were on tv time. He had Redwing grab the cat's tail and then the cat chased Redwing through the house. Funnier than heck – and even super-memory Stevie didn't get all the details right when we looked at the vid later. Steve apologized for all his befores, and he doesn't look at me sadly when we don't remember the same things anymore. I'm still broken... but that's what it is. It's life. And somehow, I'm still alive."

"And your friends are glad." Gabe had to say it. Bucky had sounded so sad. Even while talking about how funny the situation was, the concentration had still been on what he wasn't instead of what he was.

Bucky turned around, raising an eyebrow.

"The grands... the original Commandos – they all say it. When the news broke and they realized... they were horrified that they'd left you and they hadn't rescued you. Glad you weren't dead, because dead is gone, and you weren't anymore. But they really didn't like the why. Uncle Dum Dum wanted to get a time machine and bring the whole family back. By blood and commando, they wouldn't leave you. Not if they'd known. But S... uh, the guy Dum Dum had asked said no folding time. Uncle Gabe tried his contacts too. Nobody would let them go back. And Aunt Stake wouldn't let them chase after you in this time. She and Beck said Steve chasing after you was already making you dig in deep, and having blood and commando after you would just make it worse."

Bucky snorted, then laughed out loud. He sat down at the table again, kicking his feet out and studying his boots. "They were probably right. Between Steve and Sam... Sam was worse than Steve. Steve is a great strategist, but he's not so tricky. Sam... Sam found the rocks to turn over." He paused. "I wasn't ready. Not for a long time."

Briefly, Gabe wondered if Bucky would have been ready sooner if Steve hadn't been such a force of nature. But it was impossible to imagine Captain America not trying to find his life's best friend. There was no way Gabe was going to ask that. Instead, he spoke his other thoughts, "Sam sounds like a good person."

"He's our core," Bucky said simply. "Not like a rock, because rocks are hard and cold... but like a tree with deep, strong roots. He bends, and gives us what we need, but stays true to himself as well. I don't even know how Steve's luck is so good, but we wouldn't be here, not like we are, not without Sam."

A gentle grin slipped across Bucky's face. "Sam took us to a bingo night at the church that weekend, after the memories."

Gabe was startled into a laugh. From such seriousness, and then that. "That's an experience."

"For sure," Bucky grinned. "Won forty bucks, too. Old ladies are scary."

Gabe giggled. He wouldn't ever admit it, especially not to the high schoolers, but he giggled. "They are," he agreed. There were a lot of particularly scary ladies in the family, both blood and commando. Even outside family, though, older ladies just didn't _care_ anymore what people thought of them; they spoke their minds, and that could really be jarring.

"They were all so much older... so old... and they were all my peers." Bucky slipped into melancholy again. "I had more in common with them then the younger ones."

Bucky sat quietly for another moment. Then he shrugged and looked up. "Tell me about Jim? What did he do after... after the War?"

Gabe glanced at the photo in front of Bucky and smiled. "There's the internet, and the history books... and then there was my Grandpa. Ah, my Grand was the best grand, because he was mine. Grandfather Jim was always with us, when he wasn't out on a mission – he never stopped, not really. We lived with him and Grandma, my mom and me. Dad... he was Shield, it was how he and mom met, and he was gone a lot too. A lot more than Grandpa at that time. So yeah. He raised me."

Closing his eyes, Gabe spun out the memories of his Grandfather Jim. Not quite the question Bucky had asked, but it was the truth he wanted – memories of Jim, not a history lesson, but who he was, and how he'd lived since last they'd met. Gabe shared it all until the class bell rang.

They both jumped. The sound was muted in the office, but could still be heard, along now with the thundering clamor of a thousand students released into the halls, all talking, all running, all full of the life of the young in one contained space. 

When the sound had died down, Gabe looked at Bucky. There were more memories, a thousand tales, but maybe the good Sergeant had other questions now.

Bucky was sprawled loosely in the chair, seemly not bothered by the hard wood. Relaxed and comfortable, and regarding Gabe with distinct fondness that reminded Gabe yet again of the grands. 

"So you grew up here in New York?" Bucky asked.

Of all the questions that could have come from the memories, Gabe really hadn't anticipated that one. He tilted his head to one side, trying to figure it out, even as he affirmed that yes, they lived here.

"I was just trying to figure out how your family got from California to New York. Jim had loved California." Bucky shrugged.

Ah. Another thing from the distant past, but only a couple years ago Bucky's time. Gabe shrugged. "You know about the internment, when they took our family from their home with only what we could carry?" He knew Bucky knew – they'd started off with it. But it was relevant.

"Not even the bonsai," Bucky replied promptly, with a sorrow lacing his words.

Gabe blinked. "Bonsai?"

Bucky blinked back at him. "Um, miniature tree?"

"I know what a bonsai is," Gabe tried not to be exasperated. "I just don't know what it has to do wi... oh wait... I think Uncle William might have said something about a bonsai they'd left..." The memory was elusive.

"Ah." Bucky sucked his breath in. Then he shook his head. "Sorry. Didn't mean to take that off course. It just... Jim loved that bonsai."

Grandfather Jim had never mentioned a bonsai, nor did they have any in the house. Huh. But Uncle William... Gabe put off chasing that memory and obediently went on with the tale Bucky wanted.

"Well, the family was only in the camps for a few years – just until the end of the war, and the camps all closed by 1946. But even after then, everything was still gone – taken away, never to be given back again." Even the reparations in the 80s had been more about acknowledgement than anywhere near getting their land and property back, forever gone. "When the news came that the camp our family was in was going to be closed and family let free, Grandfather Jim and the rest of Bucky's Commandos got leave and headed back to the states."

"Wait, wait, what?" Bucky sat straight up, his eyes wide.

Gabe mentally rewound what he'd said and then cringed. "Ah, the original Commandos, I meant." He tried not to use the other term in public. It was something just for the family. Though Bucky was family too. By both blood and commando – original Commando – he had the right.

"That's not what you said. What...?" Bucky was looking a little less shocked, though his lips were twitching. 

"It's what they call their team – they being the grands, the original Commandos. They call themselves Bucky's Commandos. There were more commandos after, and they were all Howling Commandos, because that's what they were too. But the originals... they stayed as a core."

"I get that, but I'm still hung up on the name," Bucky said with a wry grin. "Whose idea was that? Why on earth not Steve's Commandos? If they were going to be the original... that should be Steve. Steve was our Captain."

Gabe had grown up hearing the grands use the term. It wasn't something he'd ever questioned. They were Bucky's Commandos, if they were going to make the distinction of the core originals. "I... have no idea," he admitted. Even a teacher didn't know everything, and shouldn't pretend they did. "It's just always been that way."

Bucky reached a finger out to trace over the edge of Jim's frame, his gaze fondly on the person within it. "Was it your idea, Jim? Not Monty. Not Jacques. Maybe Gabe... Honestly, fellows. But you were the one who came up with the Howling Commandos in the first place. Decorum was never our thing."

Impulsively, Gabe reached for the phone on his desk, turning the speaker on and dialing a number he knew by heart. Training always made them memorize the important numbers, even in this age of cell phones everywhere. It rang a few times while Bucky sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. Gabe guiltily didn't say anything. It would explain itself soon enough.

A gravelly old voice answered, amusement in the tones. "Hello, Midtown School of Sc—at which point the caller ID cuts out. Little Gabby? That you?"

"Hi, Uncle Gabe," Gabe responded fondly. "It's me. As you know, because nobody else here at the school calls you."

"Ah, but they might some day!"

"In which case, please don't call me Little Gabby!" The two of them had been through near this same exchange more times than Gabe could count. It cheered them both up for their bit of fun.

"Calling from a school phone on speaker... I'm guessing you have a World War II question or a Commando question. Probably not looking for my Angie's recipe for mac and cheese." 

Gabe glanced over to Bucky, who had moved his chair as far back as it would go and was sitting in perfect, utter stillness, his gaze fixed on the phone and his expression completely blank. That bandage had been ripped off the wound with no warning. But warning wouldn't have gotten them this. "I thought it was your mac and cheese. Commandos question."

"It was mine until I married Angie, then it was hers. Shoot, boy. What's the question?"

"Why is it Bucky's Commandos instead of Steve's Commandos?"

There was a little silence on the other line. "We don't use that term outside the family, Gabe."

Gabe cringed again. "It slipped out. Not during a lecture, just talking one on one. Then he asked and I didn't know, so... I'm curious now."

"Well, Little Gabby, you always did have a heck of a curiosity on you. You take after me, with all your learning." With Uncle Gabe's words, and his drop back into the loose accent instead of formal English, Gabe knew he'd been forgiven, though he probably would get some heckling for awhile after. Though not as much once Uncle found out who had asked.

Uncle Gabe paused for a bit, then obviously decided to explain without finding out who else was on the line. Maybe he already had an idea. The family could be like that sometimes. 

"We couldn't exactly call ourselves the Captain's Commandos – Pegs got promoted to Captain when she became our Commander. And all the other commanders after were Captains too. Not the same Cap as our Cap, but still. That would have been confusing."

Laughing, Gabe agreed. He glanced again at Bucky – Gabe was trying not to stare at him through the call and mostly looked at the phone – and a trace of expression had come back into the other's face, and he was leaning a little forward in his seat.

"Captain was always Cap to most of us, not Steve. Sometimes Rogers. But mostly Cap. He was always Steve to Bucky, and to Pegs, but that was before we knew Pegs much either. To call us Steve's Commandos would be something we weren't, not exactly. Roger's Commandos, maybe. But... 

"One thing that we all were, heart and soul without question, was Bucky's. Bucky was part of us, he was our Sarge. Cap lead us, Monty seconded, and then Bucky looked after us. He got us what we needed, he made sure we all were treated right, he balanced the Cap for us, he and Monty shielded us in camps, he kept the reporters and photographers from splitting us up, he rationed us. Bucky kept us whole. Cap cared – never doubt that Cap cared too, and did all that too. But Cap's focus was on Red Skull and the big picture. Bucky's focus was always on Steve and us. Cap would make sure we won. Bucky would make sure we were all warm and fed. Well, first he'd see that Steve was, then he'd see to the rest of us. And our ammo and our radio parts and our grenades and all the little bits and pieces that we had to have on the long marches."

Uncle Gabe paused for a bit. Gabe ventured another look to Bucky; the tortured Commando was back to his utter stillness, waiting without revealing anything. He was still leaning forward, though.

"Also..." Uncle Gabe drew it out, apparently not happy about sharing but sharing anyhow, "Captain America was the world's. Not ours. He was ours... but the world claimed him more. If we'd called ourselves Steve's Commandos, or the Captain's Commandos, or any such... we would have been accused of trying to get his glory. Not that any of them would have ever said so to us. But it was what it was. They never spent years hunting through all of Europe, over mountains, through woods, crossing hellscapes and mud with him. They never saw him face down in the middle of a pig stye, laughing his head off as our dinner escaped out the other side. They never saw him strip naked and jump whooping into a freezing cold lake and then coming up shaking like a dog and daring us to follow him in. They never saw him after we'd gone through a hydra lair... and I'm not saying any more on that. No, none of them saw that... but to them, Captain America was still theirs, not ours."

There was another long pause. "This next bit's not for repeating, you hear? I don't normally tell... but it's you, Gabby-kun, and I think you should know."

Gabe blinked. He hadn't heard _that_ form of his name since he was a kid. And Uncle Gabe knew he was on speaker phone but was talking as if it was just him. Well, nobody ever said the Commandos weren't smart. And Uncle Gabe was as sharp as he ever had been, even at his age. Just a little slower.

"Yes, Uncle Gabe," Gabe finally remembered to acknowledge so the story could resume.

"Yes, well." Uncle Gabe breathed in and out, audible through the phone. "I got this one from Pegs. Not from your grandfather. But from Pegs herself. She was so mad... Back when the Valkyrie was flying out, in the comms room there was Jim doing all the magic to connect with the plane that far out, her, and Colonel Phillips. And Cap... Steve was telling them what was what in the plane, and realizing the payload, and making his decision to crash it in the Artic. And... the Colonel gets Jim and takes the two of them off so Pegs could have her last minutes with Steve alone. Peg hadn't realized it, as focused as she was on talking to Steve. Then she looked up after, and looked for Jim to share that last moment with... and she realized what the Colonel had done. And what she herself had done. The Colonel had deprived her of anybody to share Steve's last moments with – and she'd done the same. Peggy had taken over the communication from Jim, and the Colonel had taken the only Commando there away from the Captain. Peggy was Steve's girl, it was true – as much as they could be in the war, and there had been so much possible. But Pegs herself knew well that the times they got to see each other at bases and camps and between missions weren't nearly the same as what all of us had for our years of fun and hell together. She was his girl, she was a commander, she bled her heart out for Steve... but she _hated_ that Jim had been deprived of that last moment with Cap, and that she had nobody to share it with. She blamed herself as much as the Colonel. 

"But it wasn't really her fault either. She wasn't with us during all the rest, and it was part of how the world saw everything that we were. The world saw Captain America, they saw Captain Carter, they saw the romance... the star-spangled banner and the union jack entwined. The Commandos were a footnote, not the main story."

Bucky's head had been bowed through the recitation, but at that last, his head snapped up, eyes blazing fire and the metal hand crushing the chair arm.

"And we were fine with that."

Both Bucky and Gabe blinked, looking at each other to see if they'd heard Uncle Gabe right.

Uncle Gabe repeated, more firmly. "We were fine. We had our Cap, the Captain we remembered, and he was _ours_. The public never had him, and the public never would. They cut us out... and that meant we could keep him. Him and Bucky. The Bucky they knew was Captain America's best friend. Bucky before the war, the Bucky of the photos and interviews. He wasn't _our_ Bucky. That was him, but it wasn't all of him. Our Bucky, our Cap, we got to keep both of them to us, because the public didn't know. 

"The public – they hounded Pegs. Even as she went on with life and then we dated... they asked about Steve Rogers. Always and constantly. They wanted more memories, more feelings, more of everything about him and her. She had a life to live that was more than just Captain America's girl, but that's still the label they stuck on her, for the whole of the rest of her time. 

"So we were perfectly fine with not being the Captain's Commandos, at least in the public's view. We knew who we were, and we knew who our missing two members were, and we'd never forget. No matter the changes, the times, the years that went on well past the two years that forged us... that forging was crucial, and it was Bucky and Cap together with the rest of us that made us who we were."

Uncle Gabe huffed out a laugh, turning the previous seriousness to a little more light. "I have to admit, though, that we had another very specific reason for deciding we were Bucky's Commandos."

Bucky raised an eyebrow and Gabe stared warily at the phone. That was his uncle's devil-may-care tone. "What was that?" Gabe asked, unable not to.

"Because we knew Bucky would hate it," Uncle Gabe promptly replied.

Bucky clamped a hand to his mouth to prevent any sound from getting out.

"What?" Gabe had to ask again, half-laughing.

"Bucky would hate it. In his mind, there was the Captain, and there was us, and he wasn't nearly as deserving as Cap or us. Cap got the bulk of the glory, and that was all fine and right and proper in Buck's eyes, because finally the world was seeing Cap as he should be. But Bucky? Bucky was Cap's best friend. He loved being Cap's best friend. And he was part of the Howling Commandos, and he loved being part of us. But himself? By himself? Nothing special." Uncle Gabe chuckled. "Look through all those old photos. Look through them. I challenge you to try and find one photo, any one where Bucky was posed on his own. The only pictures by himself were candids. Every other one was either with Cap, or with us, or with some girl on his arm – which made him not by himself. Buck always made sure that they never ever did separate out him, Dum Dum, Monty, and Jacques by themselves either. If there was ever any photographing to be done, Jim and I were right there in the thick of it as well, no cutting us out. That was all Bucky, watching out for the team. But never looking out for himself.

"So yeah. We're Bucky's Commandos. Cap's a part of us too, don't ever think he's not. But part and parcel, and for the rest of time, we'll always be Bucky's Commandos. As he's ours too. We won't ever let him go, no matter if we see him again or not. He's still a part of us."

Dead serious for the last part, and utterly sincere. 

The silence carried for another beat. "Did you have any other questions, Gabby-kun?"

Gabe didn’t know if this version of his name was a promotion or demotion from Little Gabby. The same, but different. He glanced over at Bucky, who had lowered his hand, but also had lowered his head so he wasn't to be seen. "No, Uncle Gabe. That was it. Thank you."

"Anytime, grand-nephew, anytime."

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Bucky curled up in the chair, hunching over himself.

Gabe got up. "I should go see if there's any students that need anything..." He made a tactical retreat out the door into the hall, letting it close behind him. 

It was a miracle of sorts that nobody had come in while he and Bucky had been in the office. Or it was Ana being observant and proactive – she wouldn't have missed the hallway scene either, or failed to note who it was going back to the Principal's office. His Vice was super-efficient and would have made a good sergeant herself. 

Gabe went down to her office to check in. Yes, that really was the Winter Soldier in his office. No, he hadn't left yet (though Gabe wasn't any too sure of that, all things considered). Yes, everything was okay. No, no interviews. Yes, redirect the students for the rest of the afternoon. Sorry.

When the timing felt right, when Uncle Gabe's story wasn't reverberating still between his ears, combined with the image of Bucky bowed over, bangs obediently hiding him... When it was long enough but not too long, he went back to his office.

To his great surprise, Bucky was still there. 

He'd turned on the monitors and hacked the code and was flipping through internet pages on one monitor. The other screen had two windows open – one picture of Uncle Gabe with the Commandos, Bucky included, tucked up to Steve's left as usual, but with Gabe flanking him in turn. Grandfather Jim was on the other side of Dum Dum, to Steve's right. The other photo was a more recent one of Uncle Gabe and Uncle Monty together at a Veteran's Day affair. Gabe remembered that occasion, as it was the last time Uncle Monty had visited in the states before he passed away. In the picture, Uncle Gabe and Uncle Monty still looked really good for old men, and the lines in their faces showed their experience without diminishing who they were. Thinking about how long it had been, Gabe reflected that it was rather amazing that other than Grandfather Jim and Uncle Monty that the rest of the Commandos were still alive and hale. Time had kept moving for them, and they faced it with all they were.

"I can still see them in them," Bucky said, his voice low and rough. "That was Gabe on the phone, sure enough. A Gabe that had gone on a few missions without me... but that happened sometimes. Did he say he dated Peggy?"

Gabe grinned as he closed the door behind him and carefully stepped to one side of Bucky, making sure not to trap him by the desk. "He did. She did. They were quite the item there for a long time – and a bit of a scandal as well, but neither cared about that. Then Gabe pulled a Rogers... er..."

Bucky raised a dark eyebrow, his lips twitching. 

"Lost on a mission," Gabe explained briefly while wincing. 

"In some stupidly heroic move to save everybody else?"

"Yeah, pretty much." 

Bucky huffed. "It's gotta be in the blood. Poor Peggy."

"Blood and commando," Gabe reflexively said, though he knew it didn't quite have the same meaning. Then he shifted to the other part. "Yes... Aunt Pegs still loved Uncle Gabe, but between everything... they went back to being friends, with extra sweet spots. The lady who had rescued Uncle Gabe and the others eventually got permission from her government to come out and be with him." Gabe shivered. Aunt Angie was extremely formidable, even in their circle. "Aunt Pegs found somebody equally as competent and smart, and just a tad less likely to throw himself into extreme danger."

Bucky tilted his head, absorbing it all. "So much. There was so very, very much... They lived a lifetime." He swept a few of the windows he had open out of the way and opened some new ones. "And nearly none of it in the histories, let alone the internet."

"What?" Gabe moved so he could see. He blinked as the screens came up with minimal, edited histories that had the main facts accurate... and the details varied. He rarely tried to look things up online – when it came to Commando history, he knew more than the history books.

Studying Gabe's reactions, Bucky gave a nod and then brought up his own history with the most popular sites. He scrolled down to family on each and let Gabe look. 

"That's not..." Gabe's mouth dropped open. Each site had a different number of siblings, with different names and ages. Beck was in every one – she'd been very active and had made her own name through the years. But Aunt Stake? Wasn't in most of them. Suddenly some of the papers his students submitted made a lot more sense. They had cited their work, but he hadn't always checked all the references as he apparently should have.

"I particularly liked this one," Bucky brought up one that had him as a youngster, the Commandos' mascot.

Gabe laughed. "Okay, that one I recognize. That's Aunt Nadine's work – Uncle Jacque's daughter. On my exchange, I spent a couple of years with their family, and they had an original Bucky Bear. She's also an expert infiltrator. The rest of them, I'm not sure... but it's probably family too."

"Keeping everybody safe by not letting the world know about them," Bucky agreed. "Even the paper copies are messed up. You should see how often Wiki gets changed in the edit histories." He shook his head. "I couldn't find them. I wasn't even sure of my memories in the first place, and the records were all over the place, and... I couldn't find them. Not without less legal methods, or asking people I didn't want to ask. I thought..."

Gabe shrugged. "You found a Morita nearby and thought you'd see."

"You've given a few lectures on Howling Commandos. You're not hidden." Bucky turned off the screens, lingering on the one with all of them together. "I could find them now. Now... I know. They also sent letters. My sisters. The Commandos. They all sent letters. With return addresses. Took me a long time to read them." He paused, "Took me a long time to _get_ them! But longer to read them." 

He walked around the desk, stepping around Gabe, and went to the window again. "I failed them all. They thought I did good. I'd died a hero. Instead, I'd become the Winter Soldier, and the ledger drips red. So much of it... How can I face them? 

"But their letters... in their letters, they knew, and wanted me back all the same." 

Bucky went very quiet for a long time. Gabe waited. 

"Do you know, I'm older than Stevie now? Which is weird in itself. But I'm younger than my baby sisters. And that's..." Bucky shook his head as he trailed off. He lifted his metal hand to the window and gently touched the glass. "Hell, I'm probably younger than _you_ , and you call the others grands. 

"Steve watched Pegs die of old age and wandering wits. Dementia. It hurt the hell out of him. She never ran a mission with us, and I didn't realize... blood and commandos, and we forgot to include her, damn it. But she's gone now. I saw her briefly, but it wasn't... I've missed... I've missed almost everything. But I'm not the me that used to be. Not the big brother that Beckie and Stacy knew. Haven't been that in a darn long time. Not even the person Jim once knew. Jim's gone, and I missed him too. Hadn't actually been defrosted at the time, but missed all the same. Monty as well – so close... and never to be recaptured, even as messed up as I am. All their lives went on, and what do I have in common with anybody now? Can't trust any of my memories and it all seems so unreal from what I think I knew. But... apparently that's what it is too."

Incongruously, Bucky grinned briefly, "Bless Sam and his family and bingo games too. That was quite the set of revelations. It makes all this... easier to be in the now."

He let the grin slide away, though it still lingered. "It's time. I missed Jim. I missed Monty. I don't want to miss anybody else. No matter what the now is... it's the only now there can be. If I wait until I'm whole... it might be too late entirely. So..." he spread out his hands, flesh and metal both.

Gabe swallowed, then nodded. Bucky's choice. It had to be his choice, and he'd made it for all the right reasons. Aunt Stake had been completely right in that.

"But I can't do it all at once." Bucky walked to the chair by the window and sat down. He shrugged. "Hearing Gabe... I want... I want to. But..." He shook his head. "I chose you to visit first, because you're a teacher. You didn't choose our path, even though you know it. You know the Commandos, and you know the world. You see both sides. If you could see me..."

Gabe came around the desk. 

Bucky stood up apprehensively, shrinking into himself even as he faced Gabe.

"I see you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. And Bucky... you are still, and always will be, a Howling Commando. With all that entails. You have changed, they have changed, and the fundamentals are still there and still wanted." He paused. "Go see your sisters. They've waited long enough."

Stepping forward, Gabe gave Bucky the choice. 

After a moment, Bucky reached out and accepted the hug. Not for very long; just long enough.

Then Bucky moved back to the chair and sat down with a grin. "You never finished telling how your family got to New York."

Honestly, Gabe had expected Bucky to leave after that much emotion. He was glad, though, that he hadn't. He liked this lost and reclaimed Commando. 

With a laugh, Gabe resettled himself on his side of the desk. "After the internment was over, it took some time to resettle. Gabe's family was mostly in the east, and so was Dum Dum's, and so was yours. So they were going to go east. But as you pointed out, from California to New York is quite the distance, especially in 1946. They first went to Nevada, which wasn't too far, but far enough, where a branch of Gabe's family had somehow ended up. Uncle Gabe has a very large family. From Nevada, to Colorado, to Alabama. The Jones could take the Moritas in without themselves stretching too far. Nothing fancy, and not all together always at the same time, but it was acceptance, and a chance to regroup." Gabe paused. "Well, mostly acceptance. Families aren't all the same. Just because we're related doesn't mean we all agree."

"That sounded like it was a recent comment," Bucky inserted.

Gabe sighed. "When those of us who bond by blood and commando mean it, it's a strong tie. But... sometimes those ties are pressure as well, and drive family away, or worse. We've all seen it play out. This last time, though, was pretty bad. The fall of Shield... Hydra in the midst... it wasn't good."

He shrugged it off. Not the point at the moment, and something their family would always have to deal with. "While the Morita family was moving around, staying with the Jones was temporary. The other Commandos also offered their homes, though again, families had to agree, and often had smaller places. My family wanted to try and stick together for at least awhile longer. But staying with other Commando family homes, even in split groupings... I think that was the start of expanding the family just beyond the initial Howlers. To include all by blood and commando. When you've lost all possessions, you become all the more grateful for the people – home is individuals instead of a place."

Bucky nodded, a wistful expression on his face. His home had been lost to him from the weight of time. Maybe Gabe could help to restore some of it.

"The eventual move to New York, though, well, that was your fault – yours and Grandpa Jim's."

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"You re---" Gabe choked back the 'remember' word and changed it up for description instead of question. "Back not long after the Commandos were first formed, you told Jim about Beck and Stake. Jim told you about William and Alice and Dee. And you wrote home and told your sisters about his, and he wrote home and told his siblings about yours. William absolutely adored a girl who'd named herself Stake, and told his brother to tell her never to change, which Jim relayed to you and you wrote home."

Bucky laughed. "And the letters eventually became packages, with notes enclosed to relay growing thicker and thicker. We all would read them around the campfire before we'd trade to send on. They could have just written each other at that point... but all of us were enjoying it too much. There was the war... and then there were teenagers."

It was interesting to get that version of the memory. Grandpa Jim told it filtered through the age of time, always with a bit of regret for the loss of his friend he'd shared with. Grand-Uncle William had been one of the writers and didn't think teenagers were that funny – his memories were coated with their lives after. Now from Bucky for whom it had just been a few years ago and a precious respite from a period of horror – a happy memory. Gabe was glad to see it.

"Yes," Gabe replied softly, letting Bucky be absorbed in the revealing memories. "The letters never stopped. So when the family were released from the internment camp, and were moving across the country and not settling... well, your mom offered your home to us too. With the thing with William and Stake pretty well established in letters already, everybody had to go and see how it would be in person. And it was pretty damn good in person too. And here we are."

"Wait. William and Stake... when you were saying 'Aunt Stake', I thought you meant it like 'Uncle Dum Dum'. But. But. Are you saying that they... that my little sister and Jim's little brother...?" Bucky's voice was stunned, but there was a smile growing across his face that kept stretching out the longer it was there.

Gabe blinked. "Okay, that, I thought you had known." And he'd just seen how little information there was about the families out there, deliberately so. He wasn't sure why he'd still thought Bucky knew. Maybe just because it was such a staple of the Commando reunions. Had none of the letters mentioned it? 

Bucky shook his head. "It's damn awesome is what it is." He leaned back. "So you're Jim's grandson... and my grand-nephew." The smile hadn't left and looked like it was fairly well settled in.

"By marriage," Gabe had to clarify. "You've got blooded nieces and nephews too."

Bucky held up his hand, shaking his head. "Too much. I'm just pretty danged happy about the one I'm looking at right now. That's... Wow."

That was a moment. A definite moment. 

"Uncle Bucky," Gabe tested it out on his tongue. It felt right there. The Commandos had never stopped talking about Bucky, never stopped including him in everything. The difference was that Bucky was here now, sitting in front of him. Returned to the family. Well, returned to Steve Rogers first and foremost, but the Commandos and family still wanted their claim as well.

Bucky's grin didn't stop. He looked... contented. Happy. Happy to know that he had his family and his family was here too, as well as Jim's. Time went on, and there were some things about the future that he approved of. Gabe basked under his new/old uncle's approval.

"Did you want to know about the bonsai?" Gabe abruptly asked. Heck, he might as well.

"I thought you didn't know?" Bucky half-stated, half-asked. He was still relaxed, trusting Gabe.

"I don't... but Uncle William does. There's a tale around it. I don't remember what, but I know there was one."

Bucky drew in a breath. "Like you did with Gabe? Call and ask?" As Gabe nodded, Bucky swallowed. "Will... Stacy be there?"

"Probably," Gabe admitted, looking at the clock. They should be home right now, or if out, Uncle William was good at answering his cell. "But it's William who will answer the question."

Bucky drew in a breath, eyeing the phone with equal amounts of fear and longing. "Do it," he finally said, voice hoarse with emotion.

Without giving them time for second-guessing, Gabe put the phone on speaker and dialed. 

"Hello?"

"Hi Uncle William, it's Gabe."

"Gabe, good to hear from you. But isn't it a school day?"

After just having talked to Uncle Gabe, it was hard to hear the frailness in Uncle William's voice. Even in his old age, Uncle Gabe was hale and hearty, his voice strong. Uncle William was a decade younger, yet age was no respecter of the calendar, sometimes. Talking with him was a constant reminder that they may not have much time left to spend. 

"It is," Gabe responded, letting his fondness show in his own voice. "I just had a question and thought I'd call."

"Well, you're always welcome, you know. You and the girls. When are you bringing them for dinner?"

"I'll talk to Yuko," Gabe promised. "See if she's got a good time this weekend."

There was a long chuckle. "Yuko's finally broken you of making commitments without checking with her first, has she?"

Gabe winced but also laughed. He knew he had to get his question out before his uncle found another diversion. "Uncle William, there was a plant... your grandfather had brought over from Japan? I remember hearing a little about it, but I don't remember what happened to it."

There was a pause that stretched out long enough Gabe checked the connection. Then William finally responded. "Ah, the bonsai. Let me sit down."

Settling sounds through the phone, and a brief, muted conversation.

Bucky leaned forward, his whole body aiming towards the other side of the phone.

"The bonsai," William's voice returned, still a little wheezy but stronger. "Grandfather – my grandfather, not yours – brought it from Japan. His grandfather had been teaching him the art, and this was his youngest plant, his newest. A white pine his sensei had given him permission to shape himself, all on his own. So when he left, he brought it with him.

"In Hawaii, it was how he met Grandmother. He had brought the bonsai out for sunshine and to trim some of the new buds, and she saw him there, working the old arts in the new world. Together, they searched for a home until they settled in Fresno and started a family. Each of us was introduced to the bonsai as children, and taught to care for it. Grandfather was training Jim to be the next caretaker for when he passed. A bonsai is a responsibility for generations, not just a lifetime."

Gabe cleared his throat. "Grandpa Jim never told me any of this."

William paused for a moment. "Well, he was never very happy about the whole thing, even after we got out. I think being away when it happened made it worse for him in many ways. I won't say we had it easy... but we were living it, surviving it. Jim was out there worrying the whole time. He had the war that he had to live through... and still he worried about us. Leaves rather a bad taste in one's mouth."

Bucky snorted and muttered something too low for Gabe to hear it. It sounded like agreement, though.

"Jim felt like he failed all of us by not being there, even though there was nothing he could do at home – he did more for us by being out in the war and one of the Commandos. But he wasn't there, and it hurt him. The bonsai, when it was left behind – it hurt Jim so much more because he wasn't there.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself. Though not by much. Thank you." A clinking sound on the other end of the phone and sipping sounds indicated that somebody had brought him a drink, and the last part was probably addressed to them. Likely, it was Stake, sitting down beside her husband and supporting him, as she had for all these years.

"The internment. When the soldiers and police came for us with no warning. People we'd known for years, some of them. We were told to leave our home without any preparation, with only what we could carry." William sighed. "Dee and Grandmother were both sick at the time, so that meant even less as Father was helping Grandmother and they'd given Dee to me. We took what we could... and Grandfather said we had to leave the bonsai. Our family tree, as much a part of us as the rest of us were. But it was heavy and we had no time. It broke Grandfather's heart, but he was firm."

Gabe winced, picturing it. Across from him, Bucky had also made a convulsive movement with his fist, as if he wanted to go back in time and get that bonsai for them. Or maybe that was just Gabe projecting.

"The neighbors watched us silently as we were herded out – those who themselves weren't being gathered up like we were. We lived in a mixed community, imagining ourselves just like the rest. How we found out that was not the case that day. 

"Yet in the midst of it... Alice couldn't stand it. She loved that bonsai. She wasn't strong enough to carry it herself, but she loved it and she ran out the door to our neighbor across the street, faster than the soldiers could grab. The Watsons were inside – aware but trying to give us some dignity. Alice broke that with her screams and pounding on the door and pleas for help. It wasn't for us she was asking for, however – it was for the bonsai."

Gabe lifted his face and stared at the phone. "Your neighbor rescued the bonsai?" Why didn't he remember this? Because Grandpa Jim never talked about it. But...

William laughed and drank some more. "Mr. Watson came over with Alice clinging to his hand and the soldiers reluctantly let him come, because they were already uneasy with their duties, and Mr. Watson was as white as any. They told him not to linger, and Mr. Watson apologized to us all, and Father gravely told him it wasn't his fault, that he was a good friend... and asked him to take the bonsai. And anything else from the house. Father knew it would all be raided after we left anyhow. So Mr. Watson took the bonsai, and we left to be crowded together on the campgrounds and then moved to the internment camp. Without hardly anything but ourselves, but we still had each other."

Frowning, Bucky opened his mouth, then shut it again and gave Gabe a speaking look. Gabe shrugged back at him. Uncle William told stories at his own pace. He knew this wasn't the end. 

"So the bonsai stayed with Mr. Watson? We didn't get it back after...?" Gabe knew the family hadn't returned to Fresno, but a quick trip by William's father wouldn't have been remarked on. But none of them had the bonsai, or he would have heard of it before now.

"Oh, my nephew... Mr. Watson was an American Englishman, and he had no clue how to take care of a bonsai."

Gabe and Bucky looked at each other, eyes wide and horrified. But William's voice still held that thread of laughter in it. 

"Uncle William..."

The laughter was now out loud, even as Uncle William wheezed and coughed through it. He swallowed his coughs and drank more water, then got back to the tale. "After we got out of the camp, and the family was temporarily settled with Gabe Jone's family, Father and I went back. We left the girls, and Grandfather, and went back just to see." 

He paused for a long moment, and again there was the sound of a conversation in the background. "Well, to skip all the rest and go to the point, we dropped by Mr. Watson's and talked with him and his wife. And he was proud and happy to show us what good care he'd taken of our tree over the last couple of years. He took us to the back yard... where he'd planted the little pine tree and it had grown a good four feet in such a short time."

Gabe gasped and he looked to Bucky who appeared just as horrified as he did. "They _planted_ a bonsai..."

William dissolved into more laughter, interspersed with wheezing. "They planted the bonsai. It was really healthy and well-taken care of, that was for sure. You'd never seen such a healthy small tree. A Japanese pine, transplanted to American soil. Not quite the same ever again, but doing well in the new home. Father said it was just like us."

Bucky sat back, a smile starting to spread across his face even as he shook his head. "That is just like a Morita. Jim never said..." He blinked and then clapped his hand over his mouth.

There was a pause on the phone, then William responded without making any reference to the different voice. "Jim didn't know then. It was some time past the war before Father and I made it back, and by that time, Jim was immersed in new doings. We told him after... but it never quite made the same impression as at the time, I don't think."

There was another murmur on the other side of the phone. William cleared his throat. "The bonsai-tree – it's still around. When Mr. Watson sold his home, he offered it back to us again. But New York would have been a long ways for a poor old tree on another transplant. A friend of ours knew a man who had set up a public bonsai garden in California. They talked to him, and our little transplanted tree – it never did get more than five feet tall, even with all the extra growth – got moved to the garden. They put a plaque up to talk about the internment, and it's well taken care of. The curators send me updates every year."

"I want to go see that tree now," Gabe said, deeply moved. He knew he had to have heard the tale at some time in the past, but he didn't remember it. Maybe he'd been too young. This was the first time it sunk in, and he really appreciated it. 

Across from him, Bucky was nodding, agreeing with the sentiment, before he caught himself and stilled.

A new voice entered the conversation on William's side – an older lady, but stronger voice than her husband, a rich voice with both caution and joy threading through. "Maybe we can hold the next Commando Reunion in California and take a trip there. We haven't set the site for next year yet. Or we could hold a special one."

Bucky reached out his hand, his flesh hand, trembling as he did so. He didn't speak, though, or make any other sounds.

Gabe waited a moment to see if Bucky would say something, and when he didn't, answered himself. "That sounds like a great idea, Aunt Stake. Maybe we can get together later and plan something."

"You're always welcome, of course. Any time, whenever you want to come by."

That wasn't even remotely disguised as being addressed to him. Gabe smiled at the phone, then said his goodbyes – Bucky had obviously hit his limit, and if there was any more contact to be done, it wouldn't be through the phone. His aunt and uncle reluctantly accepted the closure for the moment, and they hung up.

Bucky brought his hand back into his chest and bowed his head. "Stacy... my little Stake..." 

Gabe waited in silence, not interfering with Bucky's moment.

Finally, Bucky straightened out again. He may not have lived all the same years as his sisters and the other Commandos, but the weight of those years was in his eyes. A world, come and gone, and here again. 

"Not today," Bucky said, standing up. He took the photo of Jim and placed it back on the shelf next to the case of metals. He ran his hand over the metals. "Not today. Today... today I'm going home. Well, to Steve's. Or maybe Sam's. But...not today."

He turned to Gabe. "Tomorrow, though. I think I might be able to do tomorrow." He paused. "No kids. I don't think... I don't think I could do that. Not yet. But Stacy... Stake... and Beck..."

Gabe nodded. "They'll understand. Even if you can't do tomorrow, they'll understand."

"I think they understand too much," Bucky observed, his eyes still shadowed by that pain. 

He moved to the door, and hesitated there as Gabe stood to say his own farewells.

"I know you have this job... and sorry for intruding during it... but tomorrow..." Bucky hesitated some more.

"I can take the day off," Gabe said, checking Bucky's expression to make sure that's what he'd been after. "If you want..."

"Yes." Bucky closed his eyes, then opened them again, smiling at Gabe. 

Gabe didn't think he'd ever seen a braver thing in his life. "Uncle Bucky," he claimed as he stepped forward and offered another hug.

Bucky took the hug and held on tight. After a couple of moments, he disengaged without saying anything else and slipped through the door.

When the door shut, it was almost like the Winter Soldier had never been there. Everything in the office just the way it had been.

Almost. But the truth was, everything had changed.

Gabe stood looking at the closed door for a long time before he finally sat down again.

Tomorrow. 

They were almost there.

* * *

END

**Author's Note:**

> The bonsai tale taken from a real one in a California bonsai garden, though I don't remember exactly where. In the real one, it had simply grown out of its pot when the family was taken to the internment camp. For this one, though, I wanted another layer on for connections.
> 
> Per an Avengers deleted scene, when Steve was looking through Commando files, both Jim and Monty were noted as 'deceased' but not the others (Dum Dum, Gabe, Jacques). Admittedly this is a few years after that, but still. 
> 
> This got a bit out of control. But I was enjoying spinning the tales and reconnecting the parts. Hopefully you like it too. :)


End file.
